


A Story About Adults (And A Meddling Teen)

by Fweeble



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Fwee's terrible attempt at humor, M/M, Unbeta'd, ace Hide, confident and proud lesbian Touka, confused bisexual Kaneki, mentioned TouRiko, sex shop worker Hide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 11:57:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5584531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fweeble/pseuds/Fweeble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Touka, no.”</p><p>“Touka, <em>yes</em>,” she chirps, striding confidently towards the store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Story About Adults (And A Meddling Teen)

**Author's Note:**

> For my 500 Followers celebration. 
> 
> Prompt: Why
> 
> Please feel free to drop some [prompts](http://fweeble.tumblr.com/post/135602993733/apparently-ive-hit-500-followers-so-heres-the) in my askbox!

“Touka, no.”  
  
“Touka, _yes_ ,” she chirps, striding confidently towards the store.  
  
“We are not going _in there_ ,” he insists, digging in his heels. It’s disheartening that Touka, a tiny and misleadingly dainty looking seventeen year old high school girl, can drag him, a twenty year old adult male, with little effort.  
  
She squeezes his hand with her lovely porcelain doll hands and he winces.  
  
Talk about a kung-fu grip.  
  
“I need an adult,” Kaneki protests as Touka opens the shop door.  
  
“You _are_ the adult,” she says as she manages to man handle him through the threshold. And she’s _righ_ t, curse the world.  
  
She maneuvers him past a rather impressive selection of dildos.  
  
If there are gods, Kaneki desperately needs them to strike him down with all their might.  
  
He can’t do this.  
  
“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Touka tuts. “I'm not your mom. I’m not going to hold your hand forever. Man up!”  
  
“I had things under control, Touka! I did!” He really did. He had a plan. A baby plan. It was just maturing, that’s all.  
  
Maybe it consisted mainly of frequenting his favorite café to unheard of extremes in hopes of catching sight of blond hair, light hearted laughter. Maybe he hung onto a thread of hope that dark eyes would catch his, that he too will receive the flirty smile that is often gifted to the waiters and waitresses. Maybe the best laid battle plans didn’t rely entirely on chance. It would probably be more beneficial to be more proactive as well.  
  
But that doesn’t mean he needs his childhood friend to swoop in and take charge.  
  
“Your idea of in control is visiting Anteiku two times a day and shooting large doe eyes at the guy whenever he shows up. Which is sporadic at best.” She starts fussing with his clothes –actually _straightening_ the collar of his shirt –next to a truly impressive selection of gaudy colored plastic…something. Kaneki doesn’t want to know. “The guy isn’t psychic. He won’t know he’s the object of your questionable fancy unless you manage to actually use words to express it. You realize that, right? Now go.”  
  
And then she pushes him. Actually gives him a hearty shove towards the counter.  
  
Where _he_ is sitting.  
  
Kaneki isn’t prepared to crash and burn surrounded by candy red plastic dicks and cherry flavored lube. What did he ever do to deserve such an ignominious death?  
  
At least he’ll die knowing the man’s name.  
  
Name tags are humanity’s greatest invention. The. Greatest.  
  
Nagachika Hideyoshi has won the dubious honor of being the death of Kaneki Ken.  
  
Kaneki sincerely hopes the other man appreciates that.  
  
“Can I help you?” Nagachika asks, removing his headphones.  
  
“I… uh… I…” _…would very much like to hold your hand and go on lovely walks down the beach with you as the sun sets,_ is what he means to say. But what comes out most closely resembles a dying seal and not remotely close to what could be considered human language. The worst part is that the blond just continues to smile placidly, an exemplar of salesman poise.  
  
Kaneki regrets not writing a fifteen step plan on what to do once he finally works up the nerve to approach Nagachika. Or when Touka finally managed to bully him into confessing. Like now.  
  
The problem is that Touka believes in taking charge and barreling headfirst into every situation, no matter the situation, as if carpe diem is tattooed into her DNA. Kaneki can feel the bottom of his stomach drop out when he feels her sidle up to him, the cradle of her arm slung across his shoulders as she says with ridiculous confidence and pride, “Kaneki over here tends to get a little tongue-tied, which is why I’m here to translate for this monumental occasion.”  
  
Nagachika’s smile is still there, which relieves Kaneki, even as he reddens due to the hint of bemusement that starts to bubble to the surface. Until another man emerges from the back of the shop and _drapes_ himself over the blond, lips too close to be platonic to the other man’s ear as he whispers something, grinning. Touka doesn’t take the hint that these two are obviously an item and continues to plough on, “What I mean to say is, this guy would really like to ride your penis. Or have you ride his. Equal opportunity penis riding, really.”  
  
The mystery man is beside himself with laughter, face buried into Nagachika’s neck. Nagachika, for his part, is impressively red.  
  
“Touka, _why_ ,” Kaneki mourns into his hands, unable to show his face. _You are seventeen, you shouldn’t even **be** here! Please stop ruining my life!_  
  
“Well, Hideyoshi? Prepared to pop a cherry?” The man’s tattoos and piercings don’t intimidate Kaneki at all. Of course not. Why would they? They’re just… decoration.  
  
Unfortunately, the black sclera definitely do.  
  
They don’t seem bother Nagachika, though.  
  
“While I’m… really flattered, I’m going to have to decline your… invitation? My bike covers all my riding needs, thank you,” Nagachika manages to say as he attempts to push the other man off of him.  
  
“This isn’t what I _wanted_ ,” Kaneki laments. He has decided –he will spend the rest of his days in obscurity. This is the last day anyone will ever see the face of the disgraced Kaneki Ken. “ _I’m so sorry_ , I just…wanted to ask if you’d like some coffee… With me. In a café. Maybe. _Not this_.”  
  
Touka pats him on the back happily as he attempts the impossible feat of crumbling into dust from the heat of his embarrassment. “Congratulations! You finally said it.” She holds up a lurid purple strap-on. “Anyway, I’d like one of these, actually. What would you recommend?”  
  
Mortified, Kaneki snatches the toy away from her. “Touka no. Oh god, _please no_. You’re like my sister, please don’t make me imagine you and Yoriko sexually active. _Please don’t make me imagine you sexually active at all, you’re still a **baby**_!” Yup, definitely going to have to live underground for the rest of his life. How is he ever going to face Arata ever again?  
  
“Hey!” she protests, grabbing another one –a slightly more tasteful lavender this time –and brandishing it with purpose. Purpose-ish. “A girl can want some toys too, right?”  
  
“Uh, actually,” Nagachika begins as Kaneki tries wrangling the second strap-on from her hands (what does Touka _do_ to have vises as fingers?), “Are you twenty, ma’am?”  
  
“No. No she is not,” Kaneki babbles nervously. He’s made an ass of himself in front of the man and now he’s outed as the perv who brought an underage girl into an adult toy shop. This is all Touka’s fault.  
  
“I’m afraid you can’t buy anything, then,” the man hanging off Nagachika finally says, finally straightening up enough for Kaneki to catch the nametag. Uta. The man plucks the toy out of Touka’s hands as if she hadn’t had a death grip on it and replaces it on the shelf. “I’m also afraid minors aren’t allowed in the shop.”  
  
“I have a guardian, though,” she whines, something Kaneki hasn’t seen since she was six and he was tasked with the unpleasant mission of wrangling her and Ayato into the bathtub during a very memorable baby-sitting adventure. “Kaneki’s twenty.”  
  
“This isn’t the movies. Having an adult accompany you doesn’t cut it.”  
  
“I'm accompanying _him_ ,” she protests loudly and adamantly. “He wouldn’t be able to get anything done without me holding his hand. Do you see this hot, sweaty mess? This is Kaneki Ken at his best.”  
  
Uta laughs softly. “In that case, I do believe you deserve a pass. What a _show_. I give it five stars; would see again.”

“ _Uta_ ,” Nagachika says, sounding appropriately appalled despite the grin overtaking his face. “You’re the _owner_. You’re supposed to set an example for me!”  
  
“Dear me, that is true, isn’t it? I suppose this means you’ll have to leave, young lady. Don’t forget take your charge with you.”  
  
Kaneki is nearly out of the shop with the tattered remains of his dignity on the bottom of his shoe and Touka’s hand in his as he has to forcibly drag her out when a tanned hand taps his shoulder.  
  
“Look, I’m not up for any penis riding and chances are I’ll never be. But if you’re up for music store dates and nights spent cuddling with hot chocolate and Netflix, I think we could work something out.” Nagachika smiles. It’s not the smile he wears as a purveyor of adult toys and unmentionables and it’s _wonderful_. It makes the entire afternoon _salvageable_.  
  
Until Touka opens her mouth and says, “Are you _sure_ about the penis riding thing? Non-negotiable? ‘Cause I think Kaneki was really looking forward to that.”  
  
Kaneki slaps a hand over her mouth.  
  
“Touka, _why_.”  
  
  
  



End file.
